SING
by atl-criminal33
Summary: She always was a very good singer.


"Hey Steve, are you busy tomorrow around three?" asked Natasha on the way back from a mission.

"Not that I know of. Why do you ask?" he said with his eyebrows raised, sitting across from her in the quinjet.

"It's a surprise. I'll pick you up at 2:30," she said, and that was the end of their conversation.

The next morning Steve woke up early like he always did, meant Sam for a run, showered, ate a quick lunch, and tried to spend the rest of the day not worrying what horrors, or embarrassments awaited him.

Just like she said, there was a beeping outside his apartment at exactly 2:30. She texted him earlier to wear something comfortable, so when he walked outside in sneakers, sweats, and a dodgers tee, he earned a pleased smile from Natasha waiting for him in the front seat of her Corvette.

"Get in loser we're going shopping," she said.

"Excuse me?" he replied in a confused tone, getting in the car.

"I'm joking, it's from some movie Clint made me watch," she said with a laugh. "And don't worry, where we're going is much better."

Most of the drive was spent in silence. The route Natasha was taking to wherever they were going was unfamiliar to Steve, so he spent the whole ride trying to calm his nervous heartbeat. He had a bad track record with new places, also known as the 21st century.

About a half an hour later, she pulled into the parking lot of some place that looked like a gym or rec center of some sort.

"Before we go inside, I just want to tell you that after saving your ass in Brazil you owe me this, so behave please," she said to him in a serious voice, which made him even more curious of what they would possibly be doing on a Saturday afternoon.

Steve nodded his head, mumbling a "Yes mam," under his breath before following her inside. Upon entering, he saw a crowded gym filled with women of all ages. There had to be at least 25 of them. A few of them either smiled or waved at Natasha when they walked in, and she greeted them back kindly, increasing his suspicion.

She stood in the front of the room dressed in her yoga pants and oversized and faded hoodie. "Hello everyone," she began. "I see a few new faces, so let me introduce myself. I'm Natasha and this is my friend Steve, and this is a self-defense class for any women who want to learn how to stay safe. Last week we learned how to get out of a zip tie, and today we will go over some basic pressure, and how to escape a wrist hold," she finished, and suddenly Steve understood why she had been busy every Saturday for almost two months.

"We'll start off with S.I.N.G.: Solar plexus, instep, nose, and groin," she stated, waving to Steve to come join her. "Now Steve here, is a strong man, and obviously much bigger than me. He is going to get behind me," she said, and he obeyed. "…and he will attempt to grab me from behind."

Steve awkwardly put his arm around her neck, not feeling very comfortable with the whole hitting a woman in a room full of women even if that person was Natasha. "Don't be shy," he heard Natasha whisper, so he took a breath, and tightened his grip putting his game face on.

"Now if all else fails, just remember to S.I.N.G.," and Steve could swear he saw his life flash before his eyes. "S," she said, elbowing his stomach area. "I," she said, stomping on the inside of his foot. "N," she said, bringing her arm up to hit his nose, "and G," she said, swinging her arm down from his nose, hitting him right between the legs causing the whole room to gasp.

Despite the super soldier serum, Steve fell to the floor thinking that some things were just too painful to be prevented even with the aid of science. Natasha gave him a few seconds before patting him on the back, before helping him up. Steve swore he saw her holding back a laugh.

"Now who wants to try first?" she asked, followed by almost everyone in the room raising their hands.

The next hour and half was spent with Natasha teaching each and every person in that room from teenagers to the elderly, how to beat him up. After that, everyone took a seat in the plastic chairs scattered around the room, and enjoyed some refreshments, while asking Natasha questions, and talking about past experiences. Through some of it Steve felt like he was intruding because the topics were so personal, but every time he looked back at Natasha, and saw her respond so kindly, listening intently to every word that they said, he couldn't help but stare.

It was easy to forget in this day and age the dangers that happen right in your neighborhood, and it made Steve angry that there had to be precautions to avoid them for women. He wished that he could think of Peggy, and say that times had changed since she was in the army, but sadly it was not the case.

By 5:15 everyone had left, and it was just Steve, and Natasha in the gym cleaning up. "Sorry about this," she said, referring to the pain in his nose, among other areas, but he was anything but mad at her.

"Don't be. I was glad you brought me – it felt good to help, even if I was just a human punching bag," he said with a small laugh.

Minutes later everything was cleaned, and put away, and they could finally head back home. The drive was mostly silent, as the sun was slowly setting, but there was still one question in the back of his mind, nagging him.

"Why did you start doing this?" he asked at a red light.

"Well, it was a few months ago, and I had just come home from a mission to find one of the ladies on my floor nursing a black eye, and some other injuries from none other than her husband. We weren't really friends, but no one deserves to be treated that way. I had told her to leave him before that, but she didn't listen. That night I went into her apartment and broke her husband's nose, and two of his fingers, and told him that if he ever touched her again that he would wish I ended his life now," she said pausing to take a breath.

"After that I couldn't help but have this sort of sense around me that I should do something to help other women protect themselves because I can't always be there when they need me. So I opened this class. At first it was just a few people here and there who mostly came for the free food, but then something changed. A college girl showed up who had been raped at a frat party, and then a mother who let her husband abuse her for years, and another women who was mugged in the parking lot outside her work. They all told me they all blamed themselves for not being strong enough, but it wasn't their fault. Of course they didn't believe me, so I had to teach them some tools to be strong, and after that I guess it just kind of took off," she finished.

"Well you're doing a very admirable thing," Steve replied.

"No, I'm just doing what I can to teach these women that they shouldn't be scared to walk down the street at night."

"That sounds pretty admirable to me," he said.

A week went by, and Steve decided to go back to the class with Natasha, because getting hit for a few hours one day a week was a small price to pay compared to what these women, and women everywhere had to face every day. He would never admit it, but he kind of liked spending the day wrapping his arm around Natasha, even if it ended with him getting hit in the groin. She always was a very good singer.


End file.
